My mother wanted a little girl. A girl she could relate to, a girl she could dress up in pink, and have spa days with. She wanted a beautiful, feminine, lady like little girl. After having five boys, she got me instead.

She got skinned knees, skateboarding, kick boxing, soccer playing, and tree climbing. I think that's why my brothers don't have a mother. I think it's my fault that our mother found refuge at the bottom of a bottle, until it eventually took her life. It's my fault that our father would rather travel with Sister Moore than be a parent.

I'm sorry, boys.